


Midnight Cravings

by emmaliza



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Come Shot, Dirty Talk, Hate Sex, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism, jaime is a troll, robb is repressed and horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 18:38:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12710628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: “Have you come to confess your feelings, dear boy? Lest we never see each other again?”Robb scowls and flushes red. “Nevermind. I'm leaving.” As he turns to go, Lannister just laughs at him, making him pause.“Well, I see I didn't get under your skin there,” he says, and Robb swallows the lump in his throat – perhaps he's worried the Kingslayer is right; the manisgetting under his skin. “I admit, you've peaked my curiosity now. Stay. If you can't figure out why you're here, perhaps I can.”





	Midnight Cravings

The Kingslayer looks more than a little surprised when Robb enters his chambers late, his shirt unlaced as if Robb caught him in the middle of undressing. “The king in the north,” says Ser Jaime, smirking in that way of his, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Robb hasn't the faintest idea. He hasn't come to see his prisoner since the Whispering Wood; it's too infuriating to see him in these rooms – the chambers in Riverrun he's been given are fairly bare, but they are adequate. Robb would rather see the man thrown into the dungeons like a common criminal, but he gathers that is not how things are done. Robb ought to be in bed, for he has a long ride ahead of him the next morning, but he walked here as if his feet had a will of their own. Which makes answering the question rather difficult.

“I'm leaving tomorrow,” he says dumbly. “To fight.” He can see Ser Jaime tense slightly, the frustration of being locked away while the war rages around him ever present. It gives Robb a certain petty satisfaction. Still, the man's face betrays no hint of disquiet.

“I see. And you felt the need to tell me this because...?”

Robb's mouth hangs open. He still truly has no idea. The Kingslayer's mouth twists mockingly at him. “Have you come to confess your feelings, dear boy?” he taunts. “Lest we never see each other again?”

Robb scowls and flushes red. “Nevermind. I'm leaving.” As he turns to go, Lannister just laughs at him, making him pause.

“Well, I see I didn't get under your skin there,” he says, and Robb swallows the lump in his throat – perhaps he's worried the Kingslayer is right; the man _is_ getting under his skin. “I admit, you've peaked my curiosity now. Stay. If you can't figure out why you're here, perhaps I can.”

Slowly, Robb turns back around. Lannister is barely even looking at him, casually shrugging his tunic off his shoulders. “Although you did catch me while I was about to go to bed,” he says, “you don't mind if I keep changing, do you?”

Robb attempts to reprimand him, to remind him of his position and that he should not treat his captors with such disrespect, but his words are stolen from him once Ser Jaime actually lifts his shirt. Robb's eyes go wide. The man is handsome, there's no denying that, and even if he's been locked away for weeks, he still has the body of a warrior, of the Warrior. Robb runs his eyes over the muscles beneath the man's skin, down to the deep vee of his hips disappearing beneath his breeches. It's easy to understand why maidens would swoon and sigh. Cursing himself, Robb can feel blood rushing to his groin.

Ser Jaime is just about to start unlacing his breeches when he stops, and looks at Robb. “You don't have to just stand there, you know,” he says, and Robb almost faints. “Sit down, help yourself to some wine. I can be a gracious host.”

_Oh._ Robb swallows deeply. “No, I'm fine,” he says.

Lannister shrugs. “Suit yourself.” And he continues undressing, slowly pulling the knot of his laces apart as if he has all the time in the world. Robb should just _go_ , there is no point to his being here and he doesn't know how he'd explain it if anyone came in, but he stays rooted to the spot. As the man's breeches hang open, Robb's knees start to tremble.

When Ser Jaime finally pushes them down to his thighs, Robb bites his lip. The man's thighs are as beautiful as the rest of him, slim but strong and well-muscled, laced with delicate golden hair. Then the man steps out of his clothing and turns, and Robb – Robb can see his cock. _Gods be good._

It's not even that big, really, but it looks thick and firm laying soft among blond curls, and try as he might Robb can't avoid the desperate wish to get down on his knees and suck it. Ser Jaime sits down upon the edge of the bed with a sigh, spreading his legs shamelessly, and he raises an eyebrow at Robb. “Is something the matter, your grace?” he asks mockingly. “Do you have something in your eye?”

Robb blushes. “I'm fine,” he spits, anger unable to hide the lust in his voice. He ought to look away, but he just can't.

Ser Jaime simply chuckles, and reaches down between his legs, stroking his cock idly. Robb's eyes go wide. “What are you doing?!”

The man laughs again. “Tiring myself out a little before bed, that's all,” he says. “Why, am I bothering you? I could ask you lot to send a girl to my chambers instead, but, well, you wouldn't want me to break my vows, would you?”

Robb curses under his breath. This is obscene, watching his prisoner pleasure himself in front of him, and Robb should _order_ him to stop before Robb has him beaten for his impertinence – but as the Kingslayer's cock swells in his grip, Robb can't tear his eyes away, and he swears his mouth is actually watering. Like this, it's easy to understand why the queen would lust after this man so much she'd bring the kingdom to the brink of destruction – _his own sister,_ Robb reminds himself. _The man is utterly depraved._ Robb's own cock throbs in his breeches.

“I'll take that as permission, then,” Ser Jaime says, and then he starts to pump himself properly, setting a fast, reckless pace as if Robb isn't there at all. “After all, if you were that upset, it would be easy enough to turn and go. Or to have my head. And yet there you are, standing and staring. Why?”

Robb can't answer that. He bites his lip. “You want me boy, don't you?” Ser Jaime asks, voice low and breathy as he fully hardens. “I saw your eyes when you captured me in the woods. You would have wanted nothing more than to pin me down and take me right there in the mud – or for me to take you. If it weren't for your army...”

Ser Jaime cuts off with a small groan, fluid beading on his tip, and Robb licks his lips. The man is right, damn him. His cock ached when they put the Kingslayer in chains, but he swore to himself it was only the after effects of the battle. It's why he's not been brave enough to visit his prisoner since.

“You disgust me, Kingslayer,” Robb tells him. “You are an oathbreaker, a fornicator, a murderer, you committed incest with the queen, you tried to kill my brother–”

“And you can't think of anything you want more than my cock,” Ser Jaime laughs as he stripes himself furiously. “Imagine what your lord father would think.”

Robb's heart pangs with pain. “Don't you talk about my father,” he says. But it's not enough to make him soften.

Lannister laughs again. “Come now boy, he can't see you,” he says. “No-one can. And if they could, well, there'd be no mistaking why you're here. You're practically drooling, little wolf. There's not a man in the seven kingdoms blind enough not to see you right now and not know how much you want cock.” Robb smothers a groan. The man is right, and Robb is completely doomed. “So why not go all the way? Give in to your lusts? Tell me boy, what would you do if you weren't so worried about your _fucking_ honour _?”_

Ser Jaime's voice cracks as a shudder runs through his perfect body, liquid dripping from his tip. The man is close. _I can't, he's my prisoner, what would my family say,_ Robb tells himself, but slowly he paces forward, stepping between Ser Jaime's spread legs, while the man smirks and beckons him further with his eyes. Robb licks his lips again, and kneels.

Gods, even the smell is too much; he stinks of seed and sweat, and Robb moans softly, squirming on his knees to try and give his prick some relief. He aches to touch himself. Moreover, he aches to touch himself while his mouth is full of Ser Jaime's cock. He stares at it shamelessly, open-mouthed, watching the come bead. Slowly, Robb closes his eyes, and leans in.

A hand catches his brow and stops him.

Robb opens his eyes again, confused, and looks up to see Lannister smirking. “Forgive me, your grace,” he says. “The offer is very flattering. But I'm afraid I've sworn to be true to another.”

Robb's jaw hangs open as he grasps for a response, and then Ser Jaime groans and spends. Robb gasps as the man's seed splashes across his jaw, over his lips, a salty taste landing on his tongue.

Once he's done, Ser Jaime simply lies back upon the bed, still naked, lazy as a cat. “I think I figure out why you came here,” he drawls. “Would you like me to tell you?”

Mortified and humiliated, Robb jumps to his knees, hurriedly wiping his chin with the back of his hand. “This never happened,” he spits, ignoring the throbbing between his leg.

Ser Jaime doesn't even bother to sit up before shrugging at him. “Suit yourself, boy,” he says. “I won't be the one wanking myself to sleep tonight thinking about it.”

Robb scowls and rushes out of there as soon as he can, but the man is right, damn him. As soon as he makes it back to his chambers Robb throws his breeches aside and frantically grasps his prick, moaning like a whore as he tries to lick whatever remains of the Kingslayer's seed off his lips.

He doubts he'll sleep at all tonight.

 


End file.
